


These Tears I Cry

by NoThanksss



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Morality | Patton Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, Patton is the focus though, Platonic!LAMP, Sleep Deprivation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, bc I didn't trust myself to write them, no dark sides, please be careful friends, so many trigger warnings, they're all just sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25985494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoThanksss/pseuds/NoThanksss
Summary: Patton loves his family more than anything. He'll do anything he can to make sure that they're okay. But somewhere while looking out for the others, he stopped caring for himself.But that's fine. He's fine.He has to be, for Thomas' sake.No matter what it takes.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton
Comments: 51
Kudos: 257





	1. Roman

**Author's Note:**

> Please check the tags for warnings, everyone! Stay safe <3

Patton pushed up onto his tip-toes, straining to reach the cumin from the spice rack. He gave one final stretch, and just managed to catch the bottle with his fingers, grabbing it and pulling it down safely.

He tipped a bit into the sauce, smiling as the smell of pasta filled his nose.

The others were going to love this.

He stirred the sauce happily, a sense of satisfaction coming over him at a job well done. Well, he didn’t want to get ahead of himself, actually, he realized, frowning a bit. Perhaps he should wait to smile until he knew for sure that the other sides actually liked it.

_They probably won’t. Nothing you do is ever really good enough._

Patton gave up on his smile, sighing softly. Oh well.

In any case, he hoped they liked it. He wouldn’t know if it was any good, seeing as he wasn’t planning on eating any himself. Not that anything was wrong, because it wasn’t! He loved food, really, he just hadn’t been feeling quite as hungry lately, if he was being honest. And it wasn’t like they really needed to eat, being imaginary, and all.

He would start eating again when he was ready. It was fine.

_And besides, it’s not like you deserve to eat after everything you’ve done._

“Patton?”

Patton was so startled that he dropped his spoon to the floor with a clatter.

“Oh! Hello, Virgil!” He smiled brightly at the other side, before chuckling at his own clumsiness. “Oh, silly me. Looks like that spoon got out of hand,” he said, leaning over to pick up the spoon and toss it in the sink.

Virgil huffed in exasperation. “That’s not what that means, Pat– actually, never mind. Something’s up with Roman.”

Patton’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh?”

“Yeah. He’s making some sort of fuss in the common area. Apparently he’s being so loud that Logan can hear him from his room, and it’s driving him insane,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes. “I told him to just blast music if it was bothering him so much, but that didn’t seem to be the answer he was looking for.

“Anyway, I don’t want to deal with Princey myself, so I came to you.”

Now that Virgil mentioned it, Patton could make out some sort of commotion coming from the other room. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed it before. He just zoned out a bit when cooking sometimes, that was all.

“I’d be happy to help!” Patton smiled. “Here, will you stir this for me while I take care of it? And if you notice that pot starting to boil over, turn down the stove, okay?” He conjured a new spoon, handing it to Virgil.

Virgil accepted it nervously. “I don’t know, Pat. What if I mess it up?”

“You won’t, it’ll be fine! I believe in you! Now don’t worry, I’ll be right back!”

Patton steeled himself, before walking purposefully into whatever the heck Roman was doing.

He paused in the doorway, eyes sweeping over the mess Roman had made. Papers were crumpled up and thrown about the room, and in a few extreme cases, ripped to shreds. Roman himself was pacing back and forth restlessly. Patton watched as he scratched a few words down on a sketchpad and stared at them for a few moments, before angrily tearing the note off the pad, crumbling it into a ball, and throwing it against the wall.

“Stupid!” he yelled. “That’ll never work!”

Patton frowned. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Roman?”

Roman whirled around. “Patton! What are you doing here?”

“Um… This is the common area?”

Surprise flashed through Roman’s eyes, and he glanced about, quickly coming to the conclusion that this was, in fact, the common area. He flushed with embarrassment. “Ah… I see. I mean, of course! I thought it might be nice to take a break from the Imagination today. You know, for a change of pace.” He tried for a winning smile, but Patton didn’t need Janus’ input to know that Roman was lying.

“Sure,” he replied easily, letting Roman off the hook for that one. Roman let out an all-too-obvious sigh of relief. “So… can I ask what’s going on here?” Patton gestured at the mess of a room.

Roman glanced around again, as if suddenly realizing what he’d done. “Oh!” he laughed. “This is nothing. Just part of the creative process!” He waved a hand, and the papers disappeared.

“Oh. Okay.” Patton didn’t miss the slight strain in Roman’s voice, and it worried him. “Well, I think you were being a bit loud. It’s fine of course, but it was bothering Logan.”

Roman paled noticeably. “Ah… my most humble apologies! I assure you it will not happen again.”

“Thanks, Ro.” Patton turned to leave, before pausing. “Roman… are you okay?”

Roman began to laugh heartily, before suddenly cutting himself off, guilt flashing across his face. “Of course I am, Popsicle,” he answered in a light-hearted but hushed voice. “Just… working on some stuff.”

Patton didn’t believe it for a second. “It’s okay if you’re not,” he said softly, taking a small step toward his energetic friend. “You can talk to me.”

Roman struggled to maintain his cheerful facade for a moment longer before finally giving up. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he looked down, evading Patton’s concerned gaze.

“I just… what if I’m not good enough?”

Patton’s heart stopped. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He rushed forward, pulling a surprised Roman into a tight hug. “No, Roman,” he said into his friend’s chest. “No no no. You are more than good enough. You are the brave, handsome, unbeatable Roman!” He looked up to see tears in the other side’s eyes. “What made you feel this way?” he asked softly.

Roman let out a shaky laugh. “What hasn’t?” he asked hopelessly. He carefully extracted himself from Patton’s arms and collapsed on the couch, head in his hands. “Nothing I ever create is good enough anymore. We already proved that I’m not original. I know Logan blames me for never taking things seriously, even though I’m trying! I swear I am! Plus, we all know Virgil hates me. And I just– what if Thomas realizes how useless I am? What if he decides to replace me? I mean, he literally already has another Creativity, it wouldn’t even matter if I just–”

“Hey now,” Patton interrupted, settling down next to Roman. “Slow down there, kiddo. Nobody here hates you. We all love you and appreciate what you do for Thomas. He needs you, you know that.”

Roman snorted in disbelief. “If no one here hates me, I’ll eat my own sword.”

Patton winced. “Sounds painful, kiddo. I’d take that back if I were you.”

“No need. I already know that at least one person hates me.”

“Who?” Patton demanded. “Did someone say that? Just tell me who, I’ll fight them.”

Roman made a strangled little sound that seemed like the mixture between a laugh and a sob. And then came the muffled reply.

“Me, Pat. It’s- it’s me. I hate myself.”

Patton gasped. He felt like Roman had punched the air out of him. Unwilling tears sprang to his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He wasn’t allowed to cry.

“Roman, no. Please, no. You are worth so much. Thomas needs you. Sure, he may have another Creativity, but Remus’, ah, contributions aren’t really Thomas’ style. He needs you, his prince, his hero.”

Patton placed a gentle hand on Roman’s knee, but the creative side flinched away from his touch. Patton quickly withdrew his hand, trying and failing to stop the inevitable hurt from flashing across his face, not that it mattered. Roman wasn’t looking at him to notice it anyway.

_He hates it he hates you he hates you–_

“I’m not his hero,” Roman said sadly. “Not anymore. He picked Deceit over me. Even…” He trailed off hesitantly, before adding quietly, “Even you picked Deceit over me.”

Patton’s heart dropped into his stomach. He should’ve known.

_It’s your fault he’s like this. It’s always your fault._

“Roman, no!” he cried. He desperately pulled Roman into a hug, ignoring Roman’s half-hearted attempts to escape. “I never meant for you to feel like– I didn’t want– No!”

He took a deep breath to calm himself. He was supposed to be the happy one, he couldn’t allow himself to fall apart so easily. He took a few moments to sort his thoughts, absently wishing that Logan was there to help him organize them more effectively.

“I didn’t choose Janus over you, Roman. You will always be an important, irreplaceable part of my family. I just wanted to let him in, too. Make our family a bit bigger and a bit happier. Janus… He can help Thomas. Help protect him.”

 _In a way I can’t_ , he thought dully.

“But Roman, accepting him doesn’t change how much I care about you. We all love you. I love you.”

Roman peeked at Patton through his fingers, revealing red eyes. “You really mean it?”

“Of course!” Patton declared. “You’re a part of this family. Without you, we’re incomplete.”

Roman smiled, leaning into Patton’s embrace. “Thanks, Pat.”

Patton grinned. “Anytime! And um…” He hesitated slightly, before deciding to just go for it. “I know I’m not really good at the creative stuff–” _or anything_ – “but if you wanted to maybe bounce ideas off of me some time I’d love to help!”

Roman pulled back from Patton’s arms, opting instead to grip him tightly by the shoulders, a light shine to his eyes. “You’d really do that for me?”

“Absolutely,” Patton beamed.

Roman jumped to his feet, a bright smile on his face. “Excellent! Future generations shall tell the tale of the bold adventurer Prince Roman and his humble apprentice Patton! We shall form an unbeatable team!”

Patton laughed along to Roman’s ridiculous antics, and settled in to hear and hopefully help sort through some of his ideas. They were suddenly interrupted, however, by a yell.

“Pattoooooon!”

Patton shared a startled look with Roman, before bolting toward the other room, Roman right behind him. They stopped in the doorway, taking in the scene before them.

Despite Patton’s instructions, the pot on the stove had boiled over, and hot water was pouring all over the stove and the floor. Virgil, who had somehow managed to get spaghetti sauce all over himself, was desperately turning knobs on the stove, seemingly at random. Needless to say, it wasn’t helping.

Roman burst into laughter. Patton let out a few unintentional giggles of his own, before guiltily clapping a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle them.

“Don’t just stand there!” Virgil snarled, his face was flushed red with obvious embarrassment. “Help me!”

Patton rushed forward, quickly taking over. He turned down the stove and cleaned up the spilled water. After dealing with the mess, he offered Virgil a gentle smile as he carefully removed the spoon from his clenched fingers.

“It’s okay, kid– Virgil. I got it.”

Virgil blinked a few times in quick succession, before slowly nodding and allowing Patton to take the spoon from him. He shook out his hand a few times, grimacing slightly.

“Sorry, Pat. I– I panicked.”

“No worries!” Patton assured him. “Chef Patton’s got it all taken care of! And besides, this was a low- _whisk_ situation.”

Roman, who was still recovering from uncontrollable laughter, scoffed through his grin. “Come now, Patton. That pun was in poor _taste_.”

Patton attempted a serious face despite his giggles. “You’re right, of course. Now surely isn’t the best _thyme_ for puns,” he said, grabbing a bottle of the spice in question to make sure they got the joke.

Virgil groaned loudly. “This is getting too cringey for me to handle. I’m going to go clean up,” he said, exiting the room.

“Grab Logan when you’re done, dinner should be ready soon!” Patton called after him cheerfully.

He turned back to the stove, before coming to sudden realization. He set his spoon down and faced Roman, who was still chuckling.

“Hey, can our unbeatable team wait until after dinner?”

Roman sighed dramatically, flopping down in a chair at the dinner table. “I suppose it can.”

Patton chuckled. “Okay, kiddo. Oh, and Roman?”

“Yes?”

“If I ever hear you talking bad about yourself again, I _will_ fight you.”

Roman stared at him in disbelief, before laughing. “Sure thing, Dad. But we both know that I would win.”

Patton narrowed his eyes. “Don’t test me.”

Several emotions flashed across Roman’s face, Patton catching both shock and just a tinge of fear before he settled on amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Patton nodded, satisfied, and turned back to the stove to finish up dinner. In no time, Virgil had returned with Logan trailing behind him, and Patton was pleased to set a steaming plate of pasta in front of each of his family members.

Dinner was a relatively cheerful affair. Roman slurped at his dinner messily, getting sauce stains all over his white outfit. Logan, conversely, cut his spaghetti up into small pieces, eating with a characteristic precision. Virgil was the only one among them who ate like a normal human being.

If any of the other sides noticed that Patton didn’t serve up a plate for himself, they didn’t say anything.


	2. Logan

Patton stared blankly at the ceiling. Maybe if he just… let his eyelids slowly close… 

He groaned, flopping over onto his side. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep. He had tried counting sheep until he had lost count, (which didn’t take very long, he wasn’t really all that smart), tried breathing slowly and evenly to trick his body into thinking he was already asleep, and a million other things, but none of it was working.

It didn’t even make sense! He was absolutely exhausted these days. Sleeping should be the last of his problems.

And yet.

He sat up, sighing. Perhaps some warm hot chocolate would do the trick. He shuffled his way to the door, squinting in the low light of the fairy lights he liked to keep on at night. He wasn’t a huge fan of the dark.

As he walked down the hallway to the kitchen, however, he saw an unwelcome sight. The lights were still on in Logan’s room.

Oh Logan… It was the middle of the night! Patton sighed, but continued his walk to the kitchen. Okay. New plan. Forget the hot chocolate. He’d make Logan some of his favorite tea and encourage him to actually go to bed.

As he pulled out the necessary supplies, Patton thought about the other side. He wished Logan wasn’t so busy all the time. He knew that it was part of his job, but it wasn’t healthy for him to work himself so hard.

Patton was well aware that the other sides had important jobs to do. They were each absolutely essential in making Thomas, well, Thomas. Roman was in charge of Thomas’ creations, something that directly impacted his livelihood. Virgil had proved his own importance when he had ducked out, which had had devastating effects on Thomas. And Logan… Patton looked down at the mug in his hands. Well, Logan was constantly working, striving to help Thomas complete important tasks and educate himself further.

And then there was Patton. Sweet, innocent, _stupid_ Patton. His job was also important, he’d be dumb to say that it wasn’t. But his role was a little bit… different.

First of all, there was his main function, the one that had given birth to his original name: Morality. He helped Thomas know the difference between right and wrong, and he was proud of it. It was gratifying to know that Thomas could count on him in moral matters.

But in all honesty? That job didn’t require much out of Patton. Most of the decisions Thomas faced from day to day were fairly simple, and Patton could steer Thomas in the right direction automatically, and in many cases, subconsciously. It was hardly a drain on his time.

There were, of course, exceptions. Patton winced, thinking back to the wedding disaster. If anything, that just proved that he wasn’t even all that good at his job. He had let Thomas down, proved to everyone that Thomas couldn’t count on him as much as he had thought. He paused in his tea preparations, letting out a shaky breath. He shook his head slightly, trying to shake the sight of Thomas’ hurt face from his mind. He really didn’t need to focus on that right now.

The point was, his job as Thomas’ morality was usually pretty easy.

_Though when it isn’t, you completely fail at it, hurting everyone around you._

He had other jobs, of course. For one, he watched over all of Thomas’ memories. Again, this task was hardly difficult. As long as the memories stayed stored away in his room, they were safe.

And then there was his other main function: feelings. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure how it worked, whether events in Thomas’ life affected him or if his emotions affected how Thomas was feeling. He suspected it might be a little bit of both. Regardless, he was pretty sure it boiled down to one thing:

If he was fine, Thomas was fine.

Which was why Patton was determined to be fine at all costs.

He knew that his jobs weren’t as time-consuming as those of the others. He knew that the other sides didn’t take him seriously, that they didn’t respect him. He knew that at the end of the day, he just wasn’t as important as the rest of his family.

And that was fine. He was fine.

That’s why he didn’t tell the others about his lack of appetite lately. Why he didn’t tell them that he was having trouble sleeping. Why he didn’t tell them about the feelings of worthlessness that were slowly suffocating him more and more as the days went on. 

Because telling them any of that would be admitting that he maybe wasn’t fine. And he didn’t want to be a failure at his other job, too. 

So he ignored all of his warning signs and smiled, instead. As long as he was smiling, no one could prove that he was anything but perfectly fine.

Which of course he was.

He broke out of his thoughts when he suddenly realized that he was standing in front of Logan’s door, warm tea in hand. When had that happened?

He knocked softly at the door. “Logan? Can I come in?”

There was no response. Patton slowly opened the door, peeking inside the room. Sure enough, Logan was hunched over at his desk, furiously scribbling away at some paperwork. He either hadn’t heard Patton, or was entirely ignoring him. Patton chose not to think about which was more likely.

“Logan?” he asked, a little louder this time. Logan jumped at the sound, turning his chair around wildly, bumping his knee against the side of his desk in the process. He hissed in pain, dropping his pen in favor of clutching at his bruised knee.

Patton rushed forward, carefully setting down the mug on Logan’s desk before looking the other side over in concern. “Are you okay?” he asked anxiously. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” Logan cut him off, a schooled expression reclaiming his face. “What are you doing here, Patton?”

Patton immediately felt guilty.

_You’re bothering him. Stop being so useless and just leave him alone._

“I– I noticed you were still up,” he said nervously, trying to ignore his self-deprecating thoughts. “I just wanted to check on you. It’s not good to stay up so late.”

“I am aware,” Logan said coolly. “However, there is work that needs to be done. I shall sleep shortly, after I have completed a few more tasks. Thank you for your concern.”

He turned back to his paperwork, clearly expecting Patton to leave him be. Patton bit his lip nervously. Maybe he should just leave it, but– 

“I made you tea,” he blurted out. Logan looked up, raising a quizzical eyebrow. Patton felt like he was melting into an insignificant little puddle under his sharp gaze.

_Shut up shut up shut up!_

He pointed at the forgotten mug on the desk. “In case you needed help getting to sleep,” he managed to say.

Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed. “I do not need help getting to sleep. In fact, I am certain I would find it very easy to fall asleep if I were so inclined. However, this work cannot wait. Thank you again.”

He went back to work. Patton hesitated. He didn’t want to make Logan mad at him, but this couldn’t be healthy. The poor man was clearly exhausted, he had practically admitted to it himself! It would be worth it to endure his anger if it meant helping him out, Patton decided.

He cleared his throat nervously. “I thought you said having a good sleep schedule is really important.”

Logan sighed, placing his pen down yet again. “It is for Thomas. I, however, am imaginary. I don’t need sleep.”

“But it helps,” Patton argued. “You know that.”

“Completing this work is more important than my well-being!” Logan snapped, his hands gripping the edge of his desk tightly.

Patton fell silent, completely shocked by this sudden revelation. “Logan,” he whispered. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

Logan blinked, looking a bit embarrassed. He nervously reached up to adjust his tie, turning back to his work. “Where was I…?” he muttered, reaching for his pen.

Patton grabbed his hand before he could reach it. “Logan, look at me,” he pleaded. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

Logan turned slowly to face Patton, though he avoided direct eye contact. He reached up to adjust his glasses, a nervous tick of his Patton had picked up on a long time ago. “If you must know,” Logan began cautiously, “Yes. I am of the belief that anything that interferes with my work getting done is… unimportant, and may be ignored or discarded. This includes sleep, other aspects of self-care, as well as… feelings…”

He trailed off, looking lost in thought for a moment. Then he shook his head slightly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I really cannot afford to get behind–”

Patton yanked hard on Logan’s hand, forcing him away from his intentions. “No,” he said firmly. “No more work for you. Not tonight.”

Logan chuckled softly. “Patton, you do not get to make that decision for me. Please leave me be and let me do my job.” His voice, usually clipped and professional, slurred a bit, betraying his exhaustion.

“No,” Patton insisted. “You’ve got to take care of yourself, Lo,” he said, pulling the other side to his feet. Logan seemed just dazed enough that he didn’t protest, and Patton had to jump to support the other side when he stumbled slightly. “You’re allowed that much. You’re allowed to take care of yourself, and for what it’s worth, you’re allowed to feel things, too.”

“I don’t feel anything,” Logan replied automatically, though he allowed Patton to pull him over to his bed. 

“Oh really?” Patton asked quietly. He gently sat Logan down and seated himself next to him. “What’s this, then?” he asked, poking at Logan’s injured knee. Logan, not expecting this in the slightest, couldn’t help the small hiss of pain that came out as Patton prodded the sore spot.

Patton winced in sympathy, feeling bad for inflicting even the slightest bit of pain upon his friend, but his point was made. “That’s– that’s different,” Logan argued weakly.

“Maybe it is,” Patton conceded. “But what I’m trying to say is, you’re human. Whether you like it or not, you have feelings just like the rest of us. Wouldn’t that make logical sense, for us all to be the same?”

Logan shrugged noncommittally. “Perhaps,” he whispered. “But I’m not– I’m not supposed to–”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Patton hummed softly. He shifted a bit so that he could pull Logan against him, Logan’s back resting against Patton’s chest. Providing even more proof that Logan was tired, the logical side allowed Patton to wrap his arms loosely around him. A lucid Logan would never allow himself to be in such a vulnerable position. “Go to sleep. We can worry about the rest another time.”

“Patton?” Logan mumbled, his eyes already fluttering closed.

“Mhm?”

“I think that I may be feeling what you would call… sad.”

Patton frowned, and rubbed a thumb comfortingly across the back of Logan’s hand. He opened his mouth to respond, but stopped when he realized that Logan’s breathing had evened out. He was asleep.

Patton let out a shaky breath, tilting his head back to lean against the wall behind him. And in the quiet of the night, he allowed himself one small admission that he would deny having ever uttered the next morning.

“Me too, kiddo,” he whispered, tears that he refused to let fall resting in the corners of his eyes. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have arbitrarily decided to update this twice a week (so like, Tuesdays and Saturdays) until it's all out, if that's good with y'all.
> 
> Btw, if you like this kind of thing, go check out Trying My Best by pastelsuperhero. I don't even know the author or anything, it's just a really good fic and I was definitely influenced by it at least a little when writing this, so I'd feel bad if I didn't say anything. But yeah. That's some quality Patton angst.
> 
> And of course, thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! :)


	3. Virgil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for self harm in this chapter. Stay safe.

“Look, I’m just saying that if the Emo Nightmare wants to sulk in his room, then we should let him!”

“But what if something’s wrong?” Patton asked anxiously. “It’s been a long time since he’s skipped dinner.”

Logan looked up from his bowl of soup. “Patton, I believe you are suffering from the cognitive distortion of ‘jumping to conclusions.’ There are a multitude of reasons Virgil could have chosen not to show for dinner today. The correct one doesn’t have to be negative.”

“But what if it is?” Patton stressed. 

“If you are so concerned, I suggest you take dinner to him later and check on him then. I’m sure it won’t be too serious.”

“Yeah, Pat,” Roman added. “He just gets like this sometimes, you know that. Stop worrying so much.”

Patton froze.  _ Stop worrying so much. _

He hastily plastered on his typical smile, and was relieved to see the others relax at the sight of it. “You’re both right, of course. That’s a great idea, thanks Logan.”

As the other two sides turned back to their food, Patton breathed a sigh of relief. That had been close.

_ Don’t act upset. Don’t cry. Don’t let them know if something’s wrong. Smile. Smile. Smile! _

Patton tapped his fingers anxiously against the table, the soft thuds horribly obvious in the relative silence of the room. 

Logan suddenly set his spoon down with a decisive clink. “Patton, would you please stop that incessant tapping?” he asked, annoyance clear in his tone.

Patton immediately grabbed one hand with the other, forcing himself to stop. He squeezed tightly to punish the offending fingers.

_ Stop it stop it stop it–  _

“Sorry, Lo!” he said cheerfully. “Just tapping along to a song I’ve had stuck in my head all day. I’ll stop.”

Roman looked up, interested. “What song?”

“Oh! Um…” Patton certainly didn’t know. He had been lying, like the failure he was. “Sad,” he blurted out, before instantly cursing himself. Why would he say that? That was blatantly suspicious. He didn’t want the others to think he was sad.

Especially since he wasn’t.

Roman frowned, but Patton beat him to it. “Just a song from my playlist,” he laughed. “It’s just catchy enough to get stuck in your head if you’re not careful enough.”

“Oh. Okay,” Roman said, turning back to his soup with a small shrug.

Patton’s heart was racing. There were being too many close calls. He had to get out of there before he slipped up, said something to make the others worry. There was no point in them worrying, he was completely fine. He glanced at the others nervously. Probably just a few more minutes until he could excuse himself without raising suspicion… 

“Patton, why don’t you have a bowl?”

Patton jumped, eyes flicking to meet Logan’s before quickly looking away.

_ Think of something hurry up hurry up hurry up– _

“I had a big lunch,” he managed. “I think I’m going to check on Virgil now.”

He jumped to his feet, grabbing the bowl he had already served up for Virgil and quickly exiting the room. He walked as fast as he could without spilling the soup, only slowing when he was well down the hallway. He leaned heavily against the wall, pausing to catch his breath.

_ Stupid. Stop making a big deal out of things that don’t matter.  _

He closed his eyes, letting out a slow, deep breath.

And then he smiled.

_ That’s better. _

He continued down to Virgil’s room. Balancing the bowl of soup carefully in one hand, he knocked on the door.

“Virge? You in there?”

No response.

“I brought you some soup. Can I come in?”

Again, nothing. Patton was about to give up, maybe leave the soup outside the door, when he heard a small sound from the other side of the door.

A whimper.

Patton pushed the door open before the sound had even registered in his brain. 

The bowl of soup dropped from his hands.

He rushed forward, kneeling down next to Virgil, who was curled up on the ground, tears streaming down his face. He grabbed his hands, attempting to pull him up into a seated position, but Virgil pulled away.

“N-no,” he gasped. “Don’t look.”

Patton let go immediately, guilt flashing through him.

_ You messed up. You’re making it worse. What kind of dad are you? _

“I won’t,” he promised, though he wasn’t sure what exactly he was promising. “Can you breathe with me? In for four, hold for seven, out for eight, okay?”

Patton’s heart clenched as Virgil stuttered his way through the breathing exercises. It was no secret that Virgil had issues with anxiety attacks on occasion, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch, especially when there was only so much Patton could do to help.

Slowly but surely, Virgil calmed down. He sat up slowly, the ends of his sleeves hanging past his hands. “Thanks, Pat,” he said, avoiding looking Patton in the eye. “I’m okay now, you can go.”

“Hey wait, Virge, can we talk about this?” Patton pleaded. “What happened?”

“Later,” Virgil insisted. “Just leave, okay?” he said, reaching over to push Patton toward the door. But in doing so, his sleeve slipped, and Patton found out exactly what Virgil had meant when he had said, “Don’t look.”

“Oh,  _ Virgil _ .”

Virgil followed Patton’s gaze and swore, quickly pulling his sleeve down again. “It’s– it’s fine. I can take care of it, just go. Please.”

“I can’t do that, kiddo. Let me see.” Patton took Virgil’s hand, carefully pushing up his sleeve. He winced as several angry cuts revealed themselves. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Virgil, eyes downcast, nodded.

They were silent as Patton carefully washed and bandaged Virgil’s cuts, save for a slight hiss of pain from Virgil when Patton pressed a little too hard. A hundred questions danced on Patton’s tongue, but he couldn’t seem to vocalise a single one. It wasn’t until the process was finished and they were both seated on Virgil’s bed that either of them spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil blurted out. “You were never supposed to find out.”

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m glad I did,” Patton reassured him. “Now I can help you.” He hesitated. “Can… can I ask why?”

Virgil sighed, rubbing his bandaged arm with his other hand. “It… helps,” he whispered.

“With what?” Patton asked softly.

“The anxiety.” Virgil let out a broken chuckle. “It sounds dumb. Anxiety is supposed to be my job. But… I can’t always control it. And when it gets really bad, it hurts Thomas.” His eyes shut, a painful expression crossing his features. “I hurt Thomas.”

“Virgil, that isn’t your fault! You can’t help it!”

“So what?” Virgil asked hopelessly. “It’s still hurting him, even if I don’t mean to.”

“Okay,” Patton said. “Okay. But there has to be a better way to deal with it.”

“The breathing helps,” Virgil mumbled. “But I can’t always remember when it gets like that.”

“All right,” Patton said, nodding. “Then from now on, you just let me know. Any time something happens, let me know, and I’ll come help you, okay? You have my phone number, right? You can come find me or text me or whatever. Just… don’t do this. Okay?”

Virgil shrugged. “I can try.”

He looked so sad in that moment that Patton wanted to cry. He wouldn’t dare, not when Virgil needed him, but gosh he wanted to. “Virgil?” he asked tentatively. “Can I hug you?”

Virgil hesitated, then nodded. Patton immediately crushed him in a massive hug. He didn’t miss the way Virgil shook in his arms, and he pulled him even closer, running a hand through his hair. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re going to be okay.”

* * *

When Patton got to his room later that night, he sobbed.

He curled up on his bed, tears pouring out of his eyes, too overwhelming to stop despite his best efforts.

_ Stop it! You’re being absolutely pathetic. You’re not allowed to be sad, you have to be okay! _

Patton cried even harder.

He didn’t miss when his room suddenly darkened. He sat up, tears still falling, watching in absolute horror as his room shifted to reflect his emotions. No no no! If it was enough to alter his room, then Thomas must surely be feeling the effects of Patton’s breakdown.

But how to stop it?

He tried the breathing exercises he had walked through with Virgil. But he wasn’t dealing with anxiety, he was dealing with a wave of sadness that washed over him and pooled heavily in his gut. It didn’t work.

He tried distracting himself. He scribbled in a coloring book, he knitted a few rows on his latest project, he tidied up his room. 

All the while, he thought of Virgil, hurting bad enough to take a blade to his own skin. And worse, not even telling them about it.

The walls grew ever darker.

He collapsed on his bed, crying out in frustration. He had to make it stop!

An idea flashed through his mind. It made him feel a little sick, but he was desperate.

Virgil had said that cutting made him feel better when feelings of anxiety were too much to handle.

Who was to say that it couldn’t do the same for sadness?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may be able to tell... things are about to get a whole lot worse.
> 
> The song referenced in this chapter is "Sad" by Alexander 23, and it is from Patton's playlist. It doesn't have an impact on the rest of the story so you don't need to know it or anything, but you can give it a listen if you want. I think it's a pretty good song.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for leaving comments, they seriously make my day and also are like the best way I have of knowing if you're still reading haha. Love you guys!


	4. Patton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am serious. This chapter has A LOT of self harm in it and quite a bit of suicidal thoughts as well. Please please please be careful and take care of yourself

Patton didn’t try right away. As horrible as it made him feel, he let the sadness he was experiencing fade naturally. He didn’t trust himself to try anything dangerous while emotionally compromised, that was just asking for trouble.

Once his emotions had stabilized a little, he carefully conjured a small blade. He turned it over, examining it. It was just a simple piece of metal, and Patton watched as light reflected off of its sharp edge.

Patton gulped.

Maybe this was a bad idea. 

But then he remembered the way his room darkened despite everything he tried to stop it. He imagined Thomas feeling horrible without even knowing why.

His grip tightened on the blade. He had to try.

Carefully, he placed the blade against his wrist. He slowly dragged it across his skin, biting his lip in anticipation.

Nothing happened.

Patton frowned, peering down at his wrist. He realized that he hadn’t pushed down hard enough to actually do anything. 

_All right. Let’s try this again._

He tried pushing down a little harder this time, slowly sliding the small piece of metal along. It stung slightly, but upon examination he discovered that there was still no visible damage. He let out a frustrated little sound and tried again, this time pulling sharply at his wrist.

“Ow!” He dropped the blade. Immediately he grabbed at his wrist, inspecting the damage. A few small red droplets welled up in the small line he had made, and Patton couldn’t help but smile. 

_Success!_

As he watched the blood dry though, he frowned a little. That… hadn’t even bled that much. Was he even doing it right? Sure, it had hurt, but did that mean it had worked? What was the point, to make yourself hurt or to make yourself bleed?

_The point is to stop you from being sad, moron._

Oh. Right. Patton ran an internal check on his feelings. He felt… fine. Of course, he had been fine enough when he had started, so maybe this hadn’t been a very good test anyway.

Frowning, he washed off the cut and placed a single smiley face bandaid over it. He waved a hand and the blade disappeared. He laid down on his bed and stared at the ceiling contemplatively.

He didn’t feel like that had really helped anything. Maybe it had been a stupid idea after all.

Still, as his body refused to let him sleep as the night wore on, Patton found himself rubbing absent-mindedly at the happy bandaid on his wrist. He found a strange sort of comfort in the sharp sting he felt when pushed just hard enough.

* * *

The second time Patton hurt himself, he did it out of desperation.

He shakily conjured a new blade, and stared at its faint glow in the dull light.

He didn’t want to do it. He hadn’t particularly enjoyed it the first time. But tears were building up in his eyes and his room was growing dimmer with no end in sight. He had to do something!

 _Plus_ , he thought distantly, _this could be a better test as to whether or not this thing actually works._

Closing his eyes, Patton brought the blade to his wrist, pulling it across in a quick, sharp motion.

He gasped as pain exploded in his arm, flooding his senses. His eyes shot open, and he stared in awe as red slowly bubbled up to the surface. He was absolutely captivated by the sight.

Blood really is the prettiest color.

The bleeding once again slowed immediately, and Patton frowned.

_Wow, another thing you’re not good at._

Patton considered making another cut, or maybe trying to make the first one deeper, but was suddenly distracted by some sort of change in his room. He looked around, squinting in the bright light. What was it?

Oh! The light!

Patton’s emotions, and therefore his room, had steadied without him even noticing. His mind flashed back to a vaguely familiar Logan lecture– something about it being easier to give your attention to something than to draw it away from something else. Patton was pretty sure he had said something like that in the healthy distractions video.

This counted as a healthy distraction, right?

And even if he was wrong about all that, who cared? He had done it! He had finally found a way to make it stop!

Patton let his head fall back and he laughed, giddy with relief. 

And not a single tear fell from his eyes.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, Patton came to rely on his new method. Whenever feelings of sadness began to overwhelm him, he retreated to his room to cut his woes away. Every time, without fail, he would reemerge with a bright smile on his face.

At first, he could get by with just a quick cut, just a flash of pain to make the tears go away. Over time, however, he found that he needed a bit more to make the sadness stop. Another cut, a little deeper. Not that he minded. As long as it worked, he was happy.

The first time he cut deep enough for the blood to run down his arm, Patton laughed.

He started wearing his cat hoodie all the time. No one questioned it. Why would they? Everyone knew that he loved cats.

With this foolproof plan at his disposal, Patton was able to give himself more freely to the others. He spent hours on end trying to help Roman come up with good ideas. He never contributed much in the idea department, but Roman seemed to appreciate his company, as well as his criticism or approval of any given idea. His comments always fell more heavily on the positive side, though, and the brilliant smiles Roman gave him in return for his compliments always made Patton’s day.

His nights were devoted to forcing Logan to sleep. He would wait up in his room, staring blankly, until it was late enough that no one should still be awake. Then he would sneak over to Logan’s room and insistently drag him to bed. Most of the time he would retreat back to his own room once the other side was asleep, but on occasion he would allow himself to linger, hoping that perhaps a bit of cuddling would make him sleepy enough to actually sleep for more than an hour at a time. 

It rarely worked, but it didn’t hurt to try. 

Patton made sure to always be gone before morning. They never discussed these late night meetings, but Patton didn’t mind. Just seeing Logan looking more alert and healthy than he had in ages was reward enough.

And of course, he was constantly checking on Virgil. At first, he had to basically catch him in a panic attack if he wanted to actually help with it. Virgil didn’t seem to want to text him if his life depended on it.

Which naturally was very concerning.

Eventually, however, as Virgil got more used to the idea of Patton barging in and pouring love and comfort on him, he gave in. He started messaging Patton when he needed help, so Patton no longer had to guess. It was extremely gratifying, and Patton couldn’t be happier about it.

And of course, Patton’s own job was going fabulously well. They had managed to avoid any intense moral dilemmas lately, something Patton was extremely grateful for. And he hadn’t cried in weeks! Sure, it may have been mildly concerning that he had to resort to self harm as often as he did, but that was just because he felt like crying a lot more than he used to. But he didn’t cry anymore, and that’s what mattered. He had practically perfected his smile, and he had to admit, he was pretty proud of himself.

He had finally figured out how to be okay all the time. Thomas was safe.

In all the time he spent with the other sides, none of them ever noticed a thing.

Roman never asked how Patton was doing.

Logan never asked why Patton was always awake in the middle of the night.

Virgil never asked to see Patton’s wrists to check for scars.

And that was just the way Patton liked it.

As weeks turned into months, though, Patton had to admit that he was tired. A constant ache settled deep in his bones, slowing his every movement. Some days, the effort it took to even leave his room in the morning hardly seemed worth it. But then he remembered what it was all for, and he plastered on his smile and got up. 

He had to. Otherwise, he might not be okay, and he couldn’t have that.

Patton grew a little concerned when he found himself secretly wishing that it could all just… stop. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help everyone anymore, because he most certainly did! He was just so exhausted all the time. Taking a little break… or perhaps a long one… sounded awfully nice.

He wondered what would happen if he disappeared. Ducking out was one thing, they all knew you could come back from that, but what would happen if he cut too deep? Would he die? Could the sides even die? And how would that affect Thomas? He had a hard time believing that Thomas would lose all of his morals and emotions just because Patton was no longer present. He was just an imaginary form that Thomas had created to represent those aspects of himself, or something like that. Surely some of those qualities had to be built-in!

He even wondered, on rare occasions, if Thomas might not get a new Morality if Patton was no longer part of the picture. Maybe a better one. One that actually knew what he was doing, one that wasn’t so horribly worthless.

On especially bad days, Patton wondered if it might not be fun to find out.

The problem was that he had no way of knowing. Perhaps Logan would know, but Patton wasn’t dumb enough to ask. And even on the worst days, Patton didn’t dare risk it. Not if he couldn’t be sure what would happen.

And besides, those thoughts of disappearing were horribly selfish. If he did that, who would help Roman come up with ideas? Who would make sure Logan got to bed at a reasonable time? Who would talk Virgil out of panic attacks and hold him until he no longer felt the urge to slice at his own skin?

No. He had to be better than that. He was Morality, for goodness’ sake! 

Plus, thoughts like those were a bit scary. Even Patton was aware that people who truly were “fine” didn’t usually have thoughts like that.

So he locked those rather unpleasant thoughts away. If he didn’t acknowledge them, he could pretend that they didn’t exist, and that everything was fine.

Everything _was_ fine.

Of course, he should’ve known that it would all come crashing down eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tysm for your lovely comments, I hope you all are doing well :)


	5. Thomas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are in for it, my friends. TW for self harm, suicide attempt, self-deprecation, food mentions. Just. Be careful. Please.

Patton could tell immediately that today was going to be a bad day.

He had gotten zero sleep the night before. Usually he could at least manage a few hours scattered throughout the night, but apparently the previous night had been an exception. 

He tried to look on the bright side. This meant that he wouldn’t accidentally miss making breakfast for the others! He had all the time in the world, which was always nice.

Perhaps that was why he started making pancakes at 4:30 in the morning.

By the time Logan walked in at precisely 6:45, Patton already had a massive stack of pancakes prepared, with more on the griddle. He knew that he should stop, but flipping pancakes was doing a great job of occupying his time, so why not keep going? It was almost relaxing, in a numb kind of way.

“Patton?”

Patton turned, smile already in place. “Good morning, Lo! I see you’re up early, as usual.”

“As are you,” Logan replied, one eyebrow slightly raised in question. “May I inquire as to why you have made so many pancakes? Even if each of us eats two, that still leaves–” he narrowed his eyes, scanning the stack, “ –at least twenty left over, especially considering that you don’t seem to be finished.”

Patton giggled. “Logan, we both know that you are the only one here that is only going to eat two pancakes. But really I just felt like it. Cooking is fun!” He shrugged lightly. “If there’s still extra maybe I can see if Janus and Remus want any.”

Logan gave him a sharp stare that seemed to cut through to his very core, but if he found anything suspicious, he chose not to mention it. He seated himself at the table, quietly thanking Patton as he brought him a plate with exactly two pancakes.

“Thank you as well,” Logan said, “for… well, for last night.” He stared down at his pancakes as he spoke, and Patton almost wasn’t sure if he was talking to him. Then he remembered that they were the only two in the room.

He blinked in surprise. This was the first time Logan had ever acknowledged Patton’s nightly visits. He smiled softly, pleased to know that Logan truly did appreciate Patton’s efforts. “I’m happy to do it,” Patton assured him.

“Happy to do what?” Virgil asked, walking in and plopping down in a chair, slumping forward on the table tiredly. 

“Nothing,” Logan responded immediately. Patton giggled a bit as he noticed that the tips of Logan’s ears were tinged red. It was, quite frankly, adorable.

Virgil narrowed his eyes, glancing back and forth between the two of them. “I dunno, guys, sounds pretty sketchy to me.”

“Not as sketchy as this little guy,” Patton said, sliding Virgil’s plate in front of him. The pancake on top of the rather hefty stack had a poorly rendered smiley face drawn on it with chocolate syrup. 

Virgil rolled his eyes, but snorted. “Pat, that was awful.”

Patton shrugged, grinning. “Don’t you mean _paw_ -ful?” he asked, pulling up his hood so that his cat ears were on full display. Virgil chuckled and began digging into his pancakes. Logan looked torn between being grateful that Patton had changed the subject and banging his head repeatedly against the table, which only made Patton giggle harder.

“Good morning!” Roman sang, waltzing into the room. He bumped into Patton and decided to just go with it, twirling him around in a circle. Patton laughed, despite the dizziness that overtook him at being spun around so suddenly. He didn’t care about that, he was just happy to see his family so happy. As he prepared Roman’s plate, he subtly leaned against the counter to catch his breath.

“Here you go!” he said cheerfully, passing Roman his own stack of pancakes, this one decorated with a crown on top. Roman’s eyes lit up.

“Patton, have I ever told you how absolutely wonderful you are?” he asked, attacking his pancakes with an excited fervor.

Patton smiled at the comment, but couldn’t help but wince.

_He’s lying._

He pointedly ignored that thought and sat down at the table. He watched his family fondly, and could almost forget his sleepless nights and aching arms. Being with them made him so incredibly happy.

“Although I must ask, Padre, why is it always pancakes? Surely you could make waffles one of these days; they are infinitely superior!”

Patton jumped at the sudden question, guilt flashing through him. He had forgotten that Roman preferred waffles to pancakes. “Oh, sorry kiddo,” he began, but was almost immediately interrupted.

“You know Princey,” Virgil drawled, “I really should just expect you to be wrong all the time. And yet, you still manage to surprise me.”

Roman spluttered in offense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Waffles? Really?”

“Yes, really,” Roman said indignantly. “Pancakes are boring! Waffles are exciting!”

“Waffles are too much work to eat,” Virgil shot back. “And I hate having to work.”

The two continued to argue, ignoring Logan’s input entirely, (“Really, they are essentially the same thing. I hardly believe all this discussion is necessary.”), and Patton just smiled. His kiddos were a silly bunch, but he loved them.

_You don’t belong with them. They would be so much better off without you._

“Patton?”

Patton flinched. “Yes Logan?”

“Did you already eat? There is still an excessive number of pancakes remaining.”

“Oh! Yes of course, I just… got distracted.” He jumped to his feet, quickly preparing a plate of pancakes for himself. He gulped as he stacked a third pancake on top of his plate; any less and Logan might get suspicious. 

He sat down and stared down at the plate in front of him. The rest of the room faded out, his family’s voices turning to mush in his ears. He methodically buttered his pancakes as slowly as possible, trying to delay the inevitable. He watched in dismay as syrup oozed out onto the stack, a sick feeling his stomach. When was the last time he had even eaten?

What was wrong with him? They were just pancakes. He loved pancakes!

But deep down, he knew what was wrong. He knew the real reason he hadn’t eaten in months. It wasn’t because he wasn’t hungry. It wasn’t because he was just imaginary, so it didn’t matter whether he ate or not. The real reason was– 

_You don’t deserve it._

Patton bit his lip. He knew it was true. But the others didn’t seem to, and they might get worried if they noticed him not eating. They hadn’t yet, but it could happen anytime.

He refused to let them worry about someone as worthless as him.

He cut a small piece from his stack of pancakes, bringing the fork carefully up to his mouth. Suddenly, the strong scent of syrup overwhelmed him, and he dropped the fork with a clatter. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do it. He was going to be sick.

“Pat?” he heard distantly, but he couldn’t focus. All he knew was that he had to get out. He pushed his chair back, pushing himself to his feet. 

Which, it turned out, was a mistake.

Blood rushed to his head, and his knees buckled before he had time to think. 

Maybe all those skipped meals hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had. Who knew?

* * *

Patton blinked his eyes open in confusion. What had happened? How had he ended up on the kitchen floor? And what were those shapes looming over him?

He blinked a few more times until his vision cleared. Oh. Those shapes were his family. But why did they look so concerned? That wasn’t right.

So he did what he always did in these kinds of situations.

He smiled.

Unfortunately, that seemed to make it even worse. The other sides looked, if anything, even more worried now. 

“Pat? What happened? Are you okay?”

Patton looked up into the worried eyes of his son. His brain stalled out for a few more seconds before he remembered. 

“Oh, I’m fine!” he laughed. “Just a dizzy spell.” He tried to sit up, but Roman held him down with a gentle but firm hand.

“Just rest, Pat,” he encouraged, his tone laced with worry.

“Do you know what could have caused this? Surely there is an explanation.”

Oh no. He couldn’t have Logan on his case. If he found reason to investigate, Patton was done for.

“It’s nothing, really,” he tried. “I just didn’t sleep well last night, is all.”

Logan’s eyes widened in surprise, and Patton immediately realized his mistake. He could practically hear the gears turning in Logan’s head.

“Patton,” he began carefully, “these last few months… have you–”

“I’m fine,” Patton interrupted. Guilt washed over him at seeing the hurt look on Logan’s face; he knew that being interrupted was a sore spot for the logical side, but he had no choice. He absolutely could not let Logan finish that sentence.

“Really. It’s fine,” he said, more firmly this time. He pushed himself up, forcing his way past Roman, and got to his feet unsteadily. “I’m just going to… lie down for a bit.” He ignored the light-headedness that accompanied his standing up, and walked away as quickly as he could. 

As soon as he was out of sight, he raced to his room. Sure, his vision was swimming and he still felt like throwing up was a very real possibility, but none of that mattered. He had to get out of there.

He slammed the door behind him and pressed his back against it, breathing heavily.

Oh gosh, what had he done?

They knew. They knew! Well, they knew something, anyway. They knew that things weren’t as a-okay as he’d been making them out to be, and that was unacceptable.

_Failure._

Patton felt the familiar feeling of tears welling up in his eyes. No! He couldn’t cry now! He had been doing so well!

Quickly, he summoned a blade, a determined look in his eyes. He refused to let Thomas down again.

There was no hesitation when he put the blade to his skin. He dragged it sharply across his wrist, smiling as blood welled up in the open wound. 

Still, it wasn’t enough. He could still feel this horribly heavy weight in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He grit his teeth and swiped the blade again, letting out a relieved sigh as the weight lessened just a little. He could do this.

A knock rang out, startling Patton so much that he dropped the blade. Internally cursing, he dropped to the ground, looking for it desperately.

“Padre? You in there?”

Patton’s eyes widened. Not now. He couldn’t let them see him like this.

He was distracted by a sharp pain in his hand. He looked down, realizing that he had found what he had been looking for. He picked it up, mesmerized by its soft glow.

Another knock. “Pat? Come on, answer us please. We just want to know that you’re okay.”

Oh right. “Okay” was what he was going for. He ignored the voices outside his door in favor of cutting himself again. That took priority, and besides, maybe they would just leave if he didn’t respond.

“Patton, if you don’t answer, we’re coming in.”

Patton yelped. “N-no! Don’t do that. Everything is fine! Just– don’t come in.”

Panic built up inside him, and he tried to cut it away, but as long as his friends were still outside he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get rid of it.

“Pat, you’re worrying me. We’re coming in now, okay?”

“No!” he yelled, but it was already too late. The door opened, and three worried faces peered inside. Patton desperately yanked down his sleeves, but he knew it was pointless.

They had seen it.

It was over. It was all over. They were going to realize that he was a failure now. Maybe they would kick him out. He didn’t know. His only chance was to prove that he could still do his job.

So even though his heart was breaking, he swallowed down his sadness.

And smiled.

The other sides rushed forward. Roman grabbed the blade out of his hand, and Patton was sad to see it go. It was a lot harder to handle his emotions without it.

Virgil kneeled in front of him, tears in his eyes. He grabbed Patton’s arm, gently pushing up his sleeve. He gasped when he saw not only the open cuts from today, but also scars from many days past.

Logan stood behind Virgil, frozen, a look of complete and utter shock painted across his face.

“Pat, what is this?” Virgil asked, his voice shaking. He looked up, surprise crossing his face as he took in Patton’s smile.

“It’s nothing,” Patton insisted. “I’m fine.” He tried for a laugh, but it fell flat even to his own ears.

“This,” Roman said, gesturing dramatically, “is not fine, Patton! This is the definition of not fine!”

Logan blinked a few times at that comment, but he must have been really out of it because he didn’t offer a more proper definition.

“I’m fine,” Patton repeated. “I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine–”

“No you’re not,” Virgil said softly. “Patton, you’re– you’re crying.”

What? Patton withdrew his arm, hands anxiously reaching up to feel his face. No, there were no tears there.

“No I’m not! I’m not, I promise!” Patton said desperately. Why would Virgil say that, when he had worked so hard to prevent his tears?

Virgil frowned. “I can see the tears in your eyes. Patton, let me–”

“Those don’t count! I don’t– I don’t do that anymore, you have to believe me, Virgil, please,” Patton pleaded.

“You don’t what– cry?” Roman asked, clearly confused. 

Patton nodded vigorously. “I don’t, I swear I don’t, I’m fine, really I’m fine.” He could tell he wasn’t getting his point across. “Oh! I can prove it! Look!” He gestured around his room wildly. “Everything is normal in here, so I’m–”

But then, to his horror, the room began to dim. Oh no, his emotions were getting too strong. He had to stop them, he had to protect Thomas!

His eyes locked onto the small blade still clutched tightly in Roman’s hand. Driven by desperation, he lunged for it, pushing past an unprepared Virgil and taking Roman by surprise. In one quick moment he had it in his hand again, and he started to slash wildly at his skin when– 

A hand grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. Patton looked up to see Logan standing over him, a peculiarly blank expression on his face. Before Patton could react, Logan grabbed the blade and threw it. Patton heard the soft clink as it fell to the floor somewhere outside his room.

“No!” he cried. “Logan, give it back, please, I need it, I can fix this but you have to give it back!”

No no no, this couldn’t be happening. Why were they stopping him? He was just trying to do his job! Maybe he could summon a new one? He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate, but the emotions were getting too overwhelming; he could barely think.

Two hands grabbed his own and his eyes shot open. Virgil was staring back at him, eyes wide with panic. “Don’t,” he breathed.

Patton felt the tears in his eyes threatening to spill. He bit down on his lip, hard. Anything to make it stop, he had to make it stop!

“Stop!” Virgil pleaded with him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, Pat, but it’s okay to cry! You don’t have to do this!”

“No it’s not!” Patton wailed. He felt a comforting hand rubbing his back. Roman. “I can’t be sad, it’ll hurt Thomas! I know I’m worthless, but I promise I can at least handle this much if you’ll just let me–” 

“ _No_ , Pat. We can’t let you do that.”

“I’m just trying to do my job!”

“So was I, when you forced me to go to sleep night after night,” Logan said softly. “All those nights… Patton, have you even been sleeping?” 

Sleep? Who cared about sleep? The room still hadn’t stabilized, which meant neither had Patton. “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled.

Logan’s face darkened, but Patton couldn’t focus on that. Maybe scratching at the cuts he had already made would be enough to fix it. He tried to squirm his way out of Virgil’s hands, but Virgil immediately caught on and his grip tightened, refusing to let Patton go.

Patton whimpered. “Please,” he whispered. “I can still make it okay, but there isn’t much time left.”

“Patton,” Logan said hesitantly, “from what I’ve gathered, you have been suppressing your expression of negative emotions via crying as a way to ensure Thomas’ mental stability. Is that correct?”

Patton’s eyes shuttered shut, and he gasped softly as a single tear escaped, running down his cheek. “I don’t know what you’re saying, Lo.”

“You think that if you don’t cry, then Thomas will be okay?” Virgil translated. 

Oh. Patton gave a small nod.

He heard a soft sigh. “Patton, though repressing your emotions this way may seem beneficial in the short run, it cannot be sustained. This action will inevitably lead to significant emotional trauma that will affect not only you… but likely Thomas, as well.”

Patton’s brain took a few seconds to sort through Logan’s words. So that meant… that everything he had done, all the fake smiles, all the hidden cuts… 

Were only going to end up hurting Thomas anyway?

A dam inside Patton broke, and he sobbed.

Instantly, his room fell into darkness as it shifted to reflect his emotions. The dark was so consuming that it seemed to suck the light from every available light source. Patton heard several yells of surprise, but those didn’t matter. In the confusion he tore himself from Virgil’s grasp and pushed past him, stumbling out into the relatively bright hallway. He fell to his knees, searching for the blade Logan had thrown earlier. He knew he was too out of it to summon a new one, but he needed one desperately.

In that moment, all his doubts about disappearing vanished. His best efforts had only made everything worse, so now he knew for sure.

Anything would be better than having Patton as Thomas’ Morality.

A flash of metal caught his eye, and he immediately grabbed the tiny blade from where it had fallen only a few minutes earlier. Gritting his teeth, he slashed a new cut into his wrist, cutting deeper than he ever had before. He hissed in pain, almost dropping the blade. Gosh, that hurt.

As he readied the blade for another cut, he noticed the tears still pouring down his face. He laughed brokenly. Apparently it was too late. His trustworthy method had finally failed him, but it didn’t matter anymore.

Nothing mattered anymore.

He cut again, and again, and– 

A hand clasped over his, and Patton screamed in frustration. He looked up to see Roman, his body tense and his eyes wide with panic. “Stop. Please. Let’s talk about this, eh Padre?” he asked shakily. 

“No! I deserve it!” Patton squeezed his enveloped fingers tight around the blade in his hand, feeling a dull sense of satisfaction when his fingers stung from the sharp edge. In a sudden burst of strength, he yanked his hand away from Roman.

But before he could do anything else, Roman snapped his fingers and the blade disappeared.

Patton felt like he had been punched in the gut. He had failed.

_Just like you fail at everything else._

Patton slumped over onto the floor, curled up into a tight ball, and sobbed.

Distantly he was aware of other figures joining them in the hallway. At some point, someone picked him up and carried him to… somewhere, placing him down on a comfy surface. He felt someone messing with his arm, which was throbbing with pain.

At one point, he felt the familiar tug that meant that Thomas was calling him.

Patton just sobbed harder.

_Worthless pathetic stupid failure worthless pathetic stupid failure–_

“Shhh. It’s going to be okay,” a quiet voice promised.

_Worthless pathetic stupid failure worthless pathetic stupid failure–_

“Don’t worry, Patton. We’re staying right here.”

_Worthless pathetic stupid failure WORTHLESS PATHETIC STUPID FAILURE–_

A gentle tone entered his ear. Singing. Someone was singing. 

And it was beautiful. 

Patton let out a deep, shaky breath. His sobs slowly petered out, becoming less painful. He let the soft melody envelop him like a warm blanket. He distantly noticed someone draping an actual blanket over him as well, and in that cozy atmosphere, Patton felt his body finally relinquish itself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I named this chapter Thomas partially because this is the closest he gets to actually appearing in the story and partially because this chapter represents the peak (beak) of his emotional distress, but mostly because I ran out of sides that actually show up lol. 
> 
> Just one chapter left! :)


	6. famILY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it to the end! Yay!!!
> 
> If you've made it this far you should be fine, but just so you know, the warnings for this are just like... discussion of literally everything that's happened so far. Yeah.

Patton didn’t want to open his eyes.

He was so nice and warm, and if he got up he’d have to pretend to be happy again, which was honestly just so exhausting. It sounded so much nicer to just hide under the covers where he was safe and didn’t have to hurt anymore and– 

He heard the familiar sound of footsteps. The soft mumblings of a conversation filled his ears, and he tried to focus on it through the fuzziness in his head.

“Is he still asleep?” someone whispered.

A sigh. “Yes. It’s to be expected, though. If I’m right, he hasn’t been getting adequate sleep for several months now. Still…” A slight hesitation. “I will admit that the fact that he has not woken up yet is a bit… concerning.”

“Then shouldn’t we wake him up?” a new voice asked urgently. “What if something is seriously wrong? We’re sure he’s still like… alive, right?” 

A light smack. “Virgil! Don’t say that!"

“His physical health, while not at peak condition, is sufficient. He will wake up when his body is ready to.”

Patton suddenly realized that he knew these voices. He knew these people. And they were worried about him.

Patton couldn’t remember how he had gotten to this point, but he knew that he wasn’t supposed to make people worry.

He took a few seconds to mentally prepare himself. Then, he slowly cracked an eye open. The room was dim, which he was extremely grateful for. He opened his other eye and glanced around, noting that he was on the couch in the common area. That was good. It was dangerous for the others to be in his room for too long.

Wait, why had they been in his room again?

Slowly, he tried to push himself up a little to get more comfortable, but he accidentally slipped on the smooth blanket wrapped around him, and he fell to the ground with a soft thud. He groaned, bringing a hand up to his aching head.

“Patton!” Seemingly immediately, three concerned faces peered over him. “Are you okay?”

Patton smiled up at them. “Don’t worry about me, kiddos. Just a little tumble.” 

That did not seem to alleviate their worries. Patton was starting to get a little anxious. Why were they looking at him like that? What had he done wrong?

Roman held out a hand and Patton took it, allowing Roman to haul him up and help him get seated on the couch again. His head buzzed at the quick movement, but the others didn’t need to know that. Patton chuckled a little as Virgil plopped down next to him, snaking his arms around him in a way that seemed almost protective. Logan and Roman both took chairs facing the couch. Patton would’ve been happy to have all his family there around him if not for the serious looks on their faces.

“Patton,” Logan began, slowly and methodically cleaning his glasses, “we need to talk.”

Patton gulped. So he _had_ done something wrong. He had messed up, and now they hated him. They were probably about to kick him out. But what had he done? Why couldn’t he remember? 

He felt the faintest beginnings of tears begin to form in his eyes, and he absently reached over to dig his nails in where he already knew some cuts would be. He flinched as an unexpected amount of pain shot up his arm, yelping before he could stop himself. 

Virgil immediately grabbed his hand in his own. “Don’t. You don’t need to do that.”

And that’s when Patton panicked.

They knew. They knew they knew they– wait, of course they knew! They had found him– and he had– and then– 

“Thomas!” he yelped suddenly. “How’s Thomas?” he asked anxiously, turning toward Logan instinctively.

Logan cleared his throat. “Thomas is fine. He did experience a brief influx of negative emotions shortly after we discovered you, but it faded after you fell asleep. I explained the situation to him to the best of my knowledge. He’s very worried about you.” He hesitated, before adding quietly, “We all are.”

Patton slumped over in relief. Thomas was okay. Although… he had felt better after Patton had blacked out. So maybe he had been right about his disappearing being the best way to protect Thomas after all.

He glanced at the others warily. How should he approach this? His secret was out; they knew about the self harm. And he couldn’t even pretend he was still fine, either. Not after crying like that. And yet, they had still stopped him from hurting himself, from… well, from doing what was best for everyone. Why? They had to know how much of a failure he was by now.

“Okay,” he said quietly. Not sure what he was facing, he decided to let the others lead the conversation. He didn’t want to make any moves before he knew what he was up against.

The others shared a look, and Patton curled up on himself a little bit more, awaiting his fate.

“Patton.” Logan again. Oh gosh, the logical side was going to tear Patton apart. “This behavior is very troubling. If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask a few questions about your habits lately.”

Patton gulped nervously, but nodded.

_They’re going to hate it they’re going to hate you–_

“First of all,” Logan said, pulling out a small notebook and a pen, “when is the last time you ate? Roman indicated that you were concerningly light when he picked you up earlier.”

Patton glanced over at Roman, who immediately averted his gaze. His heart sank.

_See? He hates you._

“We don’t need to eat,” he said numbly.

Logan frowned. “My question still stands.”

Patton looked up at the ceiling, thinking back. When had been the last time? Eventually he gave up, shrugging. “A few months ago, maybe?” he mumbled.

Virgil made a strangled little sound and squeezed his arms around him just a little tighter.

Wordlessly, Roman stood up and left the room. Patton watched him go and wondered how long until the others left him, too.

“I… see.” Logan jotted down a few notes. Patton wondered if he was imagining it or if Logan’s hand really was shaking.

“I also would like clarification on your sleeping habits. Would I be correct in assuming that you have been sleeping poorly for at least as long as you’ve been enforcing my own sleep schedule?”

Patton nodded, though he didn’t see why it mattered. His problems were so much bigger than sleep at this point. 

Logan set down his pen. “Patton, I… I am so sorry. I should’ve noticed, I– I should’ve realized! I could’ve…” And now Patton knew he wasn’t imagining it. Logan’s voice was definitely shaking.

“It’s okay,” Patton said automatically. “It’s not your fault. It just… happened.”

“But it didn’t have to,” Logan said resolutely.

“It’s okay,” Patton repeated. “It didn’t hurt me, really. We don’t need sleep.”

“But it helps,” Logan said gently. 

Patton didn’t have a response for that.

Roman walked back in suddenly, causing Patton to flinch as he approached. Roman shoved a sleeve of crackers, a cup of yogurt, and a spoon into his hands. “Please eat,” he murmured, before quickly turning and sitting back in his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Patton stared down at the food in surprise. Feeling the others’ eyes on him, he felt as though he had no choice. He pulled out a cracker and began nibbling on the edge, the taste exploding uncomfortably against his tongue.

Logan examined his notes. “Patton… we also have to talk about your self-injurious behaviors. How long has this been going on?” 

Patton’s eyes flicked over to Virgil before he could stop himself. Virgil was staring at him intently, and his eyes widened when they met Patton’s.

“No,” he muttered. “Patton, don’t tell me…”

Patton wished he could lie, keep Virgil from finding out, but he was pretty sure it was already too late. He gave a tiny nod.

Virgil gasped and buried his head in Patton’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “Pat, I– I didn’t know!”

“It’s not your fault,” Patton whispered for only Virgil to hear. “I didn’t do it _because_ of you, you just… gave me the idea. And it’s okay because it did what I needed it to.”

“I’m sorry, what’s going on?” Logan asked, confused.

Virgil looked up, and Patton was surprised to see that he was crying, his eyeshadow running down his face. 

“What does that mean, Pat? What did you need so badly that _that_ was the answer?”

Patton looked up at the ceiling to avoid Virgil’s burning gaze. “I just needed to be okay. It… it made the sadness go away.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Virgil asked desperately. “All those times you helped me with the anxiety– Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you let me help you the way you helped me?”

Logan’s eyes widened in alarm. “I’m sorry– what? Virgil, do you mean to say that–”

“Because I don’t deserve it!” Patton snapped. He tried to pull away from Virgil’s arms, but he was cornered on the couch. “I don’t– I don’t deserve your help, or food, or sleep, or any of it. I don’t deserve you!”

_You don’t deserve to be alive._

Patton flinched, hunching over at the sudden, but not unfamiliar, thought.

“I’m just a failure,” he said miserably, though the admission didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. Perhaps by now he had just accepted it to be true. “A worthless, pathetic, stupid failure.”

Tears pricked in his eyes, and for once he didn’t care if they fell. What was the point? They already knew. And apparently it would hurt Thomas either way. He had been set up for failure. 

“No, Pat,” Virgil said, reaching up a hand to gently wipe away the tears on Patton’s face. “You aren’t any of those things. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

“Come on, Virgil,” Patton muttered. “You know how I feel about lying.”

“I’m not lying!” Virgil said indignantly. 

“I have a question.” All eyes snapped to Roman, who had been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time. Patton gave a slight nod for Roman to continue.

“When I found you in the hallway, and you were…” Roman let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. “You hurt yourself real bad, Patton. So my question is…

“What were you trying to do?”

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.

“What are you suggesting, Roman?” Logan asked, nervously adjusting his glasses. “Patton already explained his reasoning behind his self harm, though I cannot say that I understand it myself. But surely his intent would have been the same in that case as well.”

“I want to hear it from Patton,” Roman insisted. Patton shriveled under his intense stare.

“L-logan’s right,” he tried. “It was– it was the same.”

Roman’s eyes narrowed. “Come on, Patton. We both know how you feel about lying.”

“Hey, back off,” Virgil said angrily. “He told you the reason, so leave him alone.”

“You didn’t see it, Virgil!” Roman snapped. “You know how bad it was, how much blood there was, but you weren’t there when he did it! Even after all that damage, he didn’t want to stop! He wasn’t _going_ to stop!

“So tell me, Patton,” he said sharply, turning back on him again, “what were you trying to do?”

And that’s when Patton really started to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he blubbered like an idiot. “I just thought– I just thought–” 

“Pat, what is it?” Virgil asked worriedly. “What– what were you trying?”

Roman looked away, his worst suspicions having been confirmed. “He was trying to kill himself, Virgil.”

Virgil’s jaw dropped, and he stared at Patton, horrified. “That’s not true, is it Pat? Patton, tell me that’s not true.”

Patton just cried harder.

Before he knew it, Virgil’s arms were squeezing him tightly, as if afraid to let go.

“I’m sorry,” he wailed. “It’s just that– everything I do just makes everything worse! I try and I try and I try to be better, but it’s never good enough! So I thought– I thought that it would just be better for everyone if I disappeared. And I was right, wasn’t I?” he asked, a little hysterically. “Even now I’m hurting Thomas. 

“Everyone would be happier if I was gone!”

“Falsehood.”

Patton looked at Logan, and was immediately caught off guard. Logan had tears to rival Patton’s streaming down his face. Patton hadn’t even known Logan was capable of crying.

“Patton,” he began, before immediately choking. They all stared in shock as Logan gasped out a rough sob, his body shaking. His hands flew up to cover his crumpling face, notebook and pen long forgotten. 

“You told me,” he gasped, “that I have feelings, and that that was okay. I didn’t believe you.” He heaved in a strangled breath. “But Patton, you were _right_. I do have feelings. I have so many feelings and I hate it because right now, all of them hurt. And I don’t understand them, and I _hate_ that. All I know for sure right now is that I never want to feel like… this, ever again.

“Patton… we need you.” And then his voice gave out, and Logan hunched over, burying his face further in a poor attempt to hide his tears. His loud, ugly sobs rang out in the otherwise silent room.

“Logan…” Patton breathed. He tried to get up, wanting to comfort the other side, but Virgil’s arms automatically tightened around him even more, preventing him from moving.

So instead Patton just watched in concern as his friend fell apart for the first time since he had known him. And Patton had known Logan for a very long time.

“When I told you about my insecurities, I thought you would laugh.”

Patton’s eyes snapped over to Roman, who was watching him intently. 

“It sounds silly, I know, but I really did. In fact, if it had been anyone but you, I wouldn’t have told you at all,” he continued softly.

“But it _was_ you, so I told you. And you didn’t laugh. You didn’t make me feel stupid. You just… loved me, so much more than I could’ve expected or even thought I deserved. And then…” he laughed hollowly. “Even then that wasn’t all. You devoted hours of your time to helping me, and I knew that I didn’t deserve it, but you did it anyway. You’re just so… _good_ , Patton.” His eyes slipped shut, a few tears slipping out.

“The truth is, you’re not the one who doesn’t deserve us. It’s us who don’t deserve you.”

He glanced over at both Logan and Virgil nervously. “Or at the very least, _I_ don’t deserve you.”

If Patton hadn’t already been crying, he would’ve started right then. “Roman, no–”

“Patton, I want you to look at me.”

Patton automatically turned to face Virgil. He was greeted with a broken smile that contrasted with the tears that ran down the other side’s face.

“Look,” he said again, this time pulling away enough to push up the sleeves of his hoodie and display his arms for Patton to see. Though there were many old scars littering his arms, all were faded and barely visible. “You see? I haven’t hurt myself in weeks, Patton. _You_ did that. You’re the reason I stopped. You _saved_ me. And they’re both right,” he said, glancing at the other sides. “We definitely don’t deserve you, but we need you. So please,” he pleaded, his eyes wide and sincere.

“Let us save you.”

Patton looked at Virgil, who was giving him a look of complete love and trust in a way Patton wasn’t used to from the anxious side. He looked at Roman, who looked so small and sad in a way that didn’t suit him. He looked at Logan, who was still crying, emotion pouring from him in a way that Patton hadn’t realized was possible.

And he looked down, pushing up his sleeve and staring at the unusually neat bandage that wrapped his arm.

“Patton?” Virgil asked, worry evident in his tone.

“I guess we’re all just a little broken, huh?”

“I…” Virgil hesitated. “Yeah. I think we might be.”

“Can you… can I have a hug?”

Virgil immediately buried his face once again in Patton’s shoulder, wrapping him up in his arms and pulling him close. Roman appeared by Patton’s side, somehow squeezing himself onto the couch on Patton’s other side, awkwardly snuggling up in the tight space.

Patton looked up to see Logan staring at them hesitantly from his seat, tears still running down his face.

Roman followed his gaze. “Get over here, Pocket Protector,” he ordered. Logan stood, taking a few careful steps toward them, his eyes flitting over their verified cuddle pile. Patton could practically see the doubts running through his head, and for a second he worried that Logan would refuse their hugs entirely. But then Logan’s eyes locked with Patton’s, and a determined expression settled on his face. With no room left on the couch, Logan took a seat on the floor in front of Patton’s legs, facing Patton. He carefully placed the temporarily forgotten food items on the floor next to him, and then stiffly leaned forward and rested his head and arms on Patton’s lap. 

Patton chuckled brokenly at that, and reached a hand out to run through Logan’s hair. Logan practically melted into the touch, and Patton smiled. He knew then that they were going to be okay.

“I love you guys,” he said.

“We love you too, Padre,” came the soft reply.

“And don’t you forget it,” Virgil added.

Logan just nodded wordlessly, but that was enough.

They would have many things to work out later, many conversations that needed to be had. Thomas, for one, still needed to be updated and checked on. But in that moment, none of that mattered. They were all together, and it was perfect.

And Patton didn’t feel guilty about the tears that ran down his face, because for the first time in months, they were tears of happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and leaving comments, it means the world to me! I absolutely loved writing this, it might be my favorite story that I've written. Thanks for sticking with me :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first fic for this fandom, so let me know what you think :)


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